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THE FAIRIES 
UP-TO-DATE 

PICTURES BY 

JEAN DE BOSSCHERE 

VERSES BY 

EDWARD JOSEPH ANTHONY 



BOSTON 

LITTLE, BROWN &• COMPANY 
1923 







Copyright, IQ23 , 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 


All Rights Reserved 
Published March, 1923 



Printed in the United States of America 


\ 




MAR 16 *23 


© Cl A6 96801 

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wo \ 






CONTENTS 


THE STORY-TELLER BEGINS 

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD 

SLEEPING BEAUTY 

JACK AND THE BEANSTALK 

HANSEL AND GRETEL 

ELSIE OF THE ASS’S SKIN 

BLUEBEARD 

PUSS IN BOOTS 

HOP-O’-MY-THUMB 

CINDERELLA 

THE STORY-TELLER SAYS GOOD-BYE 


4 


THE FAIRIES UP-TO-DATE 






























THE STORY-TELLER BEGINS 


Ho! for the fairies that never sleep! 

Ho! for the fairies that never die! 

Their lives are strange and their ways 
are deep, 

Their hearts are happy, their feet are 
spry. 

We’ll borrow the fairies’ eyes and peep, 
We’ll borrow the fairies’ wings and fly. 


We’ll borrow the fairies’ ear and hear 
News of many a good old friend. 

We must borrow their patience, too, I 
fear. 

It’s a long, long tale with a far-off end! 
Hush! for the fairy folk are near; 
Wings a-fluttering they descend. 







THE NEW STORY OF 
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD 










a 



THE NEW STORY OF 
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD 


Picture I 


For whom those cakes?” the Wolf 
inquires. 

(Observe the beast’s disguise.) 
For grandma dear whose house is 
near,” 

Red Riding Hood replies. 


“She’d make a luscious dinner,” thinks 
The Wolf, “with proper cooking,” 
But dares not eat the maiden sweet 
Because the Good Dwarf’s looking. 





































Red Riding Hood 


Picture II 


Red Riding Hood departs. The Wolf, 
A-chuckle, shows his teeth, 

And telephones in muffled tones 
The message underneath:— 


“Grandmother? This is Riding Hood,’' 
(The Dwarf hears all, O boon)— 
“Poor mother’s ill and hopes you will 
Be running over soon.” 


































































































































































Red Riding Hood 


Picture III 


The dog-rose and the dandelion 
On every hillock nod, 

The foxglove too (a lovely blue) 
But not a wolf—thank God! 


Red Riding Hood for granny plucks 
These pretties on the hill, O!— 
The tiger-lily tame (how silly!) 

And purring pussywillow. 














































/C- 


• # 




Red Riding Hood 


Picture IV 


When granny hears the news untrue 
That Wolfie telephones, 

She cries, ‘‘Oh, dear!” (which isn’t 
queer) 

And, plainly worried, groans. 


And dashes out, despite her age, 

To bring Red Riding’s mother 
Some herbs and teas, and things like 
these, 

The little germs to smother. 


• iw. 


. */,\ 






















































































































Red Riding Hood 


Picture V 


Who’s in that scooter, scooting by 
So fast it is a blur? 

Our dwarfish friend who hopes to end 
The wolfish deeds astir. 


He warns the soldiers, “Catch that 
wolf! 

The fellow is a knave.” 

The soldiers bow and gravely vow 
Red Riding Hood to save. 




















































Red Riding Hood 


Picture VI 


Red Riding Hood when she arrives 
Finds granny isn’t there, 

And musing, “I’ll sit down a while, 
Soon snoozes in her chair. 


The Wolf is near! A mile behind, 
In some one’s borrowed car, 
The soldiers come! (I hear a drum 
A-beating from afar.) 




































Red Riding Hood 


Picture VII 


Poor child! The Wolf is at the door! 

(A fact you can’t dispute.) 

He does not knock, but picks the lock 
And enters, nasty brute. 


The child, awakening with a smile, 
Says, “Pardon! Did I snore?” 
The Wolf’s disguise deceives her eyes 
As it had done before. 



































Red Riding Hood 


Picture VIII 


“You’ll soon be sleeping evermore 
And sleep for girls is good,’’ 
The Wolf declares as he prepares 
To spring at Riding Hood. 


That very instant, led by Dwarf, 
The soldiers reach the place 
And stab and shoot, and soon the 
brute 

Is lying on his face. 










































































































, cT- 




Red Riding Hood 


Picture IX 


A glad re-union then is held, 

As you can plainly see. 

I’d do the same (upon my name!) 
If some one rescued me. 


I hope the Wolf his lesson learned: 

That creatures that are rough 
Achieve the blade. ... I hear he made 
A lovely scarf and muff. 






















































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THE NEW STORY OF SLEEPING 
BEAUTY 




































































































































































































THE NEW STORY OF SLEEPING 
BEAUTY 


Picture I 


A child at last! The queen and king 
Are happy as can be. 

To celebrate their daughterling 
They give a royal tea, 

And ask the fairies neighbouring 
To join the jubilee. 


The fairies all give blessings sweet, 
Except an impolite 

Old withered one who says with heat, 
“At seventeen this mite 
The ugliest thing on earth will meet 
And die at once of fright.” 





























































































































































































Sleeping Beauty 


Picture ll 


The withered fairy wishes last 
And so the curse will stay, 
Unless some fairy, going past, 
Will drive the spell away. 
One fairy’s missing; if she’s fast 
She yet may save the day. 


She comes! A-cycle! (I believe 
The darling missed her train.) 

And tells the monarch, “Do not grieve, 
I realise your pain, 

But I have something up my sleeve 
That I will now explain:— 




















Sleeping Beauty 


Picture III 


“That ‘ugliest thing’ won’t make 
her die, 

As Wicked Fairy said; 

If daughter looks it in the eye 
’Twill topple over dead, 

And then a Prince from out the sky 
Will drop, the child to wed” . . . 


A bravery course (I wrote the book) 

Is ordered by the throne 
So that the child one day may look 
At ogres and not groan. 

Her courage grows. She leaps a brook 
When only twelve, as shown. 























































Sleeping Beauty 


Picture IV 


“To look at demons she must dare 
And not have wobbly knees,” 
Her father vows, and to prepare 
Her for emergencies, 

One day he has her fight a bear. 
She masters it with ease. 


To whip a bear, I stoutly claim, 

Is very hard to do, 

Especially one that isn’t tame 
And wants to swallow you. 
The children who can do the same 
Are very, very few. 































































































Sleeping Beauty 


Picture V 


Her courage grows as she grows older, 
One day three robbers lie 
In waiting for her. Being bolder 
Than either you or I, 

She glances at them o’er her shoulder 
And, badly scared, they fly. 


Which proves that she s no Sleeping 
Beauty, 

But very much awake; 

She simply says in accents flutey, 
“You’ve made a big mistake 
If you expect to get some booty,”— 
No wonder that they quake. 







































































































































































































































































































Sleeping Beauty 


Picture VI 


Three princes visit her to sing 
Love sonnets in her ear, 

But promptly cease their carolling 
The day—(alas!)—they hear 
That when she meets the ugliest thing 
On earth, she’ll die, poor dear. 


And since her seventeenth birthday, 
when 

The ogre she will meet. 

Is near, I hardly blame the men, 

For wedlock’s indiscreet 
With one who’s leaving there and then 
For Heaven’s far retreat. 











































































































Sleeping Beauty 


Picture VII 


The day the child is seventeen 
The Wicked Fairy hides, 

For none, she knows, of uglier mien 
In all the world abides, 

And if by Beauty she is seen 
And fearless B. decides 


To look her squarely in the eye, 
She, not dear Beauty, will 
(According to prediction) die, 
And death’s a bitter pill; 

So Wicked Fairy heaves a sigh 
And feels a trifle ill. 











































































































Sleeping Beauty 


Picture VIII 


While hunting with a page one day 
Miss Beauty meets an old 
Bewrinkled hag along the way. 

The lad exclaims, “Behold! 
There is no uglier object, nay!” 

The creature turns to scold 


(Dropping the wood she came to pick) 
“The Wicked Fairy!” cries 
Miss Beauty, gazing in the nick 
Of time in Fairy’s eyes. 

This makes the Wicked Creature sick 
And instantly she dies! 












































Sleeping Beauty 


Picture IX 


That very moment from the sky 
A golden ’plane descends 
As lightly as a butterfly. 

Over the sides there bends 
A fair Prince Charming, glad of eye, 
Who soon his hand extends 


To Beauty, with a pretty bow, 

And murmurs, “Be my bride.” 

“I’d love to,” Beauty answers, “now 
The Wicked Fairy’s died.” 

And when he’s kissed her on the brow, 
To Happyland they ride. 










THE NEW STORY OF 
JACK AND THE BEANSTALK 





















































THE NEW STORY OF 
JACK AND THE BEANSTALK 


Picture I 


Jack the Giant-killer once 

Was thought by all to be a dunce. 

His father and his mother said: 

“There’s only nonsense in your head. 

If you’re to be of any use, 

Go to market with a goose.” 

And Jack his goose to market brings 
With a chain of beans instead of strings, 






































































Jack and the Beanstalk 


Picture II 


No one wants to buy the stalks, 

So he sells the goose and home he walks 
Jack, oh Jack, you foolish fellow, 

What’s the use of a beanstalk yellow? 
Jack, oh Jack, you foolish lad, 

What will Mother say, and Dad? 

For now their only goose is sold, 

They’ll be cross and they will scold I 











































































































































Jack and the Beanstalk 


Picture IV 

And so, with all his new-won wealth, 
Jack goes to travel for his health. 
Jack, oh Jack, you silly boy 
Thus your parents to annoy 1 
Don’t you know your Mother true 
Is sitting up to wait for y<?u? 

Jack, before your story’s told, 

Alas, your dinner will be cold! 























































Jack and the Beanstalk 


Picture V 

Says Jack, “If e’er again I sell a 
Goose, ’twill be for an umbrella. 

I fear, alas, I have no brain! 

What good’s a parachute for rain?” 
And, thinking thus, he saw a tower; 
And, fearing now that it may shower, 
He raises a most fearful din, 

Crying, “Sir, may I come in?” 












































































































































































































V.*> 




























































































































































































































































































Picture IX 


The parents think the story’s funny 
When Jack goes home with all his money. 
He tells about the goose, the stalk, 

The parachute, his country walk, 

The rain he thought was going to shower, 
And the cruel miser in the tower. 

His parents cry: We’re glad you’ve 
come! 

You have no brains—we’ll buy you some! 1 







THE NEW STORY OF 
HANSEL AND GRETEL 



































































































































































































Hansel and Gretel 


Picture II 

Every day in the wood they met, 

Whether ’twas dry, or the weather was wet, 
John, their master, came along, 

And used to sing this merry song: 

“Men are sometimes pigs, but then, 

Pigs are sometimes gentlemen. 

So with my merry pigs I play 
Happily, the live-long day!” 











* 












































































Hansel and Gretel 


Picture IV 


Say our pretty piggies two, 

‘‘Well, we know what we will do! 
Here’s a pretty garden-seat. 

Let’s come in and let us eat! 

When we’ve had our dinner, maybe 
We will learn which way the way be! 
Truly, it would be disaster 
If we failed to find our master!” 







t 



































































































































Hansel and Gretel 


Picture V 

This is far from being fun! 

Hansel (he’s the spotted one) 

To a tree is roped and tied. 

Gretel’s in a cage beside. 

By the gardener they’re caught. 
They’ll be sold and they’ll be bought. 
They’ll be killed and eaten too. 
Master John, what will he do? 































































































Hansel and Gretel 


Picture VII 

They’ve escaped and off they roam, 
Looking for the pathway home. 

But here’s a stream, and they can’t swim! 
Really, things are looking grim. 

Gretel cries: “We must have pluck! 

We’ll learn to swim. Just watch that duck!” 
In the stream the piggies plunge. 

Floating lightly as a sponge! 





H- o w £ 




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•**i#t*!*i*r*! 



















Hansel and Gretel 


Picture VIII 

“Here's a sight of joy and rapture! 
Now we have escaped from capture!" 
Clear as any signpost could, 

Here’s a signpost in the wood, 

Pointing out the path to all, 

The fat and lean, the short and tall, 
To men with hair, and men with wigs, 
To women, children too—and pigs! 





























































THE NEW STORY OF 
ELSIE OF THE ASS’S SKIN 






> 


























































































































































































































THE NEW STORY OF 
ELSIE OF THE ASS’S SKIN 


Picture I 


Elsie of the Ass’s Skin 

(There’s a reason for her name) 
Sees her parents growing thin, 

Starving. (What an awful shame!) 


While the cock at morning crows, 
Elsie’s up and says goodbye, 

Out into the world she goes, 

To make her fortune,—or—to die! 























































































































































































































































































































Elsie of the Ass s Skin 


Picture II 


Here’s the reason why they call her 
Elsie of the Ass’s Skin, 

In this cloak, whate’er befall her, 

She goes wrapped, from knees to chin 


Over hill and over stream, 

To a fate that no one knows, 
Wandering, as in a dream, 
Pretty, plucky Elsie goes. 
























































































































































































































Picture III 


The lady travellers address her. 
Attracted by her pretty face, 
And Elsie pauses to confess, her 
Only trade is making lace. 


'Come with us into the city,” 
Say the stranger ladies two, 

'If the lace you make is pretty, 
We can give you work to do.’ 




































































Picture IV 


Elsie’s practising her trade, 
Living in the city now; 

See, a veil of lace she’s made 
For a high-born lady’s brow. 


Says the lady: 4 ‘You are pleasant, 
Sitting here to sew and sing; 

I shall give you as a present, 
This, my precious signet ring.” 











































































































Picture V 


All day long and day by day 
Elsie practises her trade, 
Always working, always gay, 
Always brave and unafraid. 


Now she’s making lovely hats, 

Trimmed with ostrich feathers curled 
Always bright and cheerful—that’s 
Why she gets on in the world! 














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Elsie of the Ass’s Skin 


Picture VI 


Elsie s customers all ask, 

“Can you make us gay as you?” 
Elsie undertakes the task, 

Herbs of cheerfulness to brew. 


Stirring, stirring, all the day, 

Elsie of the cheerful soul 
Makes the drink to make them gay, 
And—drops her ring into the bowl 



































































Elsie of the Ass’s Skin 


Picture VII 


All day working in her room, 

Out of doors she doesn’t stir 
Till one day a coach and groom 
Call—and they have called for her! 


On the way she thinks, “I wonder 
Why they’ve sent for me this coach? 
Have I made some awful blunder? 
Shall I have a stern reproach?” 

























Picture VIII 


To the gate a young man rushes, 
Elsie’s ring is in his hand, 

And he hesitates and blushes, 

Though his manner seems so grand 


Elsie listens to him stammer: 

“There is magic in your ring, 
Such is its unearthly glamour, 
Love eternal it shall bring.” 



























































Elsie of the Ass’s Skin 


Picture IX 


Elsie for her home is yearning, 

Where her parents sit a-pining. 

Home they go, their hearts a-burning, 
Side by side, their arms entwining. 


And her loving parents greet her, 
And they greet her husband too. 
Ever after they entreat her, 
“Elsie, tell your story true!” 









THE NEW STORY OF 
BLUEBEARD 












THE NEW STORY OF 
BLUEBEARD 


Picture 


Aha! I ve caught a maiden sweet!” 

Cries Blue-beard. “She’ll be good to eat! 
I chose her for her slender waist. 

The fat ones aren’t to my taste!” 

I really cannot mention 
The villain's cruel intention; 

My courage it would fail — 

But the picture tells the tale. 








































































































































































































































Bluebeard 


Picture II 


But first he tries to win the love 
Of that unhappy little dove. 

Cries he: “Unless you heed my magic, 
Your end will be—well, very tragic!” 
The maiden will not yield, 

For virtue is her shield. 

Behold the villain's rage, 

And then — let's turn the page . 


























































































Bluebeard 


Picture III 


To love him when he cannot make her, 
Enraged, he bids his servant take her, 
And cries: “She might have been my 
wife. 

She’ll have me not? She’ll have—the 
knife!” 

Now, will the servant do 
What he's commanded to, 

And give her to the cook? 

We'll turn the page, and look! 






































































Bluebeard 


Picture IV 


The servant has a heart of gold, 
And doesn’t do as he is told. 

In fact—(ask Mother is this true) 
It’s very seldom servants do! 
Instead, the maid he hides 
With Bluebeard's other brides . 
I hope he treats her well — 
But the picture, it will tell . 















































































































Bluebeard 


Picture V 


“A tray of dainties you have brought her. 
The girl I ordered you to slaughter. 

Aha!” cries Bluebeard (sneaking rat), 

“I swear that you shall die for that!” 

The danger that has hovered 
Returns—they are discovered. 

Now what’s the man to do ?— 

But the picture tells us true. 

























































































































































Bluebeard 


Picture VI 


The servant does not wish to die, 
And, seeing horsemen riding by, 

He signals with his flowing beard— 
A sight that is distinctly weird! 

Oh, will the horsemen see 
The strange and frantic plea 
Of the servant old and hoary? 
—The picture tells the story. 




































































Bluebeard 


Picture VII 


Too late, for as the old man dreaded, 
He is about to be beheaded. 

The knife is lifted with a flash 
To make the horrid, deadly gash! 

But the knife has not descended, 
The story isn’t ended, 

The villain still may fail, 

Next picture tells the tale! 






















































































































































Bluebeard 


Picture VIII 


Oh, joy I A rescue! All enraptured 
They see their cruel captor captured. 
And Bluebeard, that old monster, who 
Was heartless, shall be headless, too! 
The maidens fair are free, 

A pretty sight to see, 

And no one will be vexed 
At the picture coming next . 




























































Bluebeard 


Picture IX 


The picture shows us, sure enough, 
The end of Bluebeard will be rough- 
They’ve placed him on a desert isle, 
And there he sits awaiting trial. 
That's all I have to tell, 

And if you like it well, 

I pray, give me no glory, 

The picture told the story! 
















THE NEW STORY OF 
PUSS IN BOOTS 
















































































































































































































Picture 11 


Now, Master’s made a statuette, 

But statues are not good to eat; 
Says Puss: “I’ll settle that, you bet! : 
And puts his boots upon his feet. 


“I’m on my way to see Lord Lincoln,” 
Quoth Puss, “to show my Master’s 
statues. 

He spends his wealth on food and drinkin : 
He’ll be amused to see my cat-shoes.” 


o 








/ 







































































































































































Picture IV 


If now you don’t say Puss is clever 
I’ll think that you’re most awful mean, 
He reads the paper—did you ever 
See any Pussy half so keen? 


With joy our Pussy sneezes— Kat- chul 
He’s read this in the “Foreign Mart”: 
“The man who carved that lovely statue 
Has carved his way into my heart.” 



















































































































Picture VI 


And who should hear but great Lord 
Lincoln! 

(The lord who always drops his G’s), 
Quoth he: “Your master isn’t sinkin’, 
So stop your racket, if you please! 


“For nakedness I have a loathin’. 
It always seems so—well, absurd. 
I’ll give your noble master clothin*. 
He suits the action to the word. 
































































Picture VII 


But now our friends don’t stop to rest up, 
They’re off in Lincoln’s nice new six. 

Our William rides along, all dressed up, 
While Puss again is up to tricks. 


“Who built that buildin’?” cries Milord, 
A voice replies, “I’ll tell you true! 
The man who sits beside your ward!” 
(He’s saying what Puss told him to.) 


























Puss in Boots 


Picture VIII 


Good William, in his gay attire, 

Leaves Mary’s Pa, who is not wroth, 
And satisfies his heart’s desire 
By plighting lovely Mary’s troth. 


Our Pussy now is very proud 

To see his Master William’s pluck, 
And if the circumstance allowed 

He’d wish them both the best of luck 


0X2 




































Puss in Boots 


Ficture IX 


On what are Puss and William bent 
With all that tray of statuettes? 
To answer the advertisement, 

For neither Puss nor Will forgets 


That in a far, far distant land 
A kind, rich merchant advertises, 
He’d love to see the man whose hand 
Has made the statues that he prizes 




































































Puss in Boots 


Picture X 


Now this is sad—and most exciting! 

The good rich man he lies a-dying, 
While two great lawyer men are writing 
(You can’t see Will, but he is crying). 


And can you guess the deed of death 
The lawyer’s writing with his quill? 
I’ll tell you—with his dying breath 
The man leaves all his wealth to Will 




I 









Puss in Boots 


Picture XI 


They’re flying in an aeroplane, 

The man, the girl, the Pussy true 
And they’ve no reason to complain. 
For time is quickly flying, too. 


I wish that I were William now, 
And had a ’plane, a girl like this, 
And a golden ring to seal the vow. 
Well, that is my idea of bliss! 




























































THE NEW STORY OF 
HOP-O’-MY-THUMB 















* 











































THE NEW STORY OF 
HOP-O’-MY-THUMB 


Picture I 


Who is the stranger who’s suddenly come 
To see Marianna and Hop-o’-my-Thumb? 
I’ll tell you—the girl and her wee little 
brother 

Are left all alone by their father and mother. 
The stranger’s a thief and he’s been drinking 
rum! 

The house is all shattered— 

In war it was battered, 

And both of the children are terribly glum. 



































































































































Hop-o’-my-Thumb 


Picture III 


Hop-o’-my-Thumb and his sister, they flee. 

‘‘They shan’t catch you, and they shan’t 
catch me,” 

Says Hop-o’-my-Thumb. But a way he 
needs 

To show the path home, so he’s dropping 
some beads. 

But a girl sees the trinkets, and great is 
her glee. 

And the girl says with joy, 

“What a fool is that boy! 

“If he doesn’t want them, I do,” says she, 














































► 



Hop-o’-my-Thumb 


Picture IV 


Hop-o’-my-Thumb is climbing a tree, 

And though the way’s lost, he’s happy to 
see 

A house and a chimney and ribbons of 
smoke. 

Says Hop-o’-my-Thumb: “We must call on 
those folk 

And ask them for shelter for you and for me!” 
And clambering down, 

He says: “Sister, don’t frown! 

I’ll find the way out, and we soon will be 
free.” 







* 



























Hop-o*-my-Thumb 


Picture V 


And here is a picture I needn’t explain— 

They kneel on the doorstep and pray to 
remain. 

Says Hop-o’-my-Thumb: “I know we are 
bold, 

But the evening is dark and the weather is 
cold. 

The sky is so black and I fear it will rain!” 
The lady agrees— 

But if you will please 

Turn the page over, you’ll see ’tis in vain! 











































































Hop-o’-my-Thumb 


Picture VI 


The good lady’s husband has come from the 
war 

With a box full of gold. Like a pig, he wants 
more, 

And hearing the story of Hop-o’-my-Thumb, 

“Aha!” says the villain. “I’m glad he has 
come! 

I’ll show him to soldiers. They’ll come by 
the score. 

What a show it will be 
And how pleasant for me, 

He’ll do all the work and I’ll sit at the door!” 









































Hop-o’-my-Thumb 


Picture VII 


No sooner than Hop-o’-my-Thumb has 
heard, 

He’s running away as fast as a bird. 

But see how the soldier our hero pursues, 
With automobiles in place of his shoes! 
They’re fast as the wind, though they look 
absurd. 

Cries he: “I will catch 
The wee rascal, and snatch 
His sister as well, you can take my word.” 




♦ 


































































Hop-o’-my-Thumb 


Picture VIII 


Alas for Hop-o’-my-Thumb and his hopes! 

Marianna is captured and fastened with 
ropes. 

But look! In a mole-hill the boy disappears 

And whispers: “Dear sister, pray dry up 
your tears!” 

There, in the shade of the mountainous 
slopes, 

Ere the villain has missed her 
He cuts loose his sister, 

They flee, while the stupid man drowses and 
mopes! 























































Hop-o’-my-Thumb 


Picture IX 


They’ve taken his shoes, and away they are 
stealing, 

The lad on the head of his sister is kneeling, 

The shoes, as I’ve mentioned, are somewhat 
absurd, 

But they’re quick as the wind, and as light 
as a bird. 

“Oh, sister, be quick!” our hero’s appealing, 
“Or the soldier will catch us 
And once again snatch us!” 

Over the meadows the two go a-wheeling. 































































































































Hop-o-my-Thumb 


Picture X 


And now, as you see, the youngster who 
braved 

The ruffian’s anger is happily saved. 

He’s earning a salary, carrying orders 

For General Jenkins, who watches the 
borders. 

As long as the General’s banner is waved, 
No soldier can harm him, 

No danger alarm him. 

When later he woke how the soldier man 
raved I 





























































































Hop-o'-my-Thumb 


Picture XI 

I'm wondering if you remember still 

The beads that were dropped at the foot of 
a hill. 

One day coming home with his car full of 
gold 

Hop meets a fair maiden and stops to behold. 

He gazes, and gazes, and gazes, until 
“Oh, maiden,” he cries, 

As he looks in her eyes, 

“You can show the way homeward, if only 
you will!” 




> 



V 

































































































THE NEW STORY OF 
CINDERELLA 




























THE NEW STORY OF 
CINDERELLA 


Picture 


Cinderella has two sisters 

And each one laughs at her and scorns 

“Our noses have big blisters, 

Our feet have great big corns! 

We are pretty. We are beauties, 

Your nose and feet are small! 

You shall do the household duties, 

We are going to the ball!” 








































































































































































































































Cinderella 


Picture II 


On the way they sing a ditty: 
“We have nice, enormous feet! 
We are lovely, we are pretty, 
Aren’t crooked noses sweet? 
Praise to Heaven for its bounty, 
For the way our noses grew, 
We’re the ladies of the county. 
And we’re handsome ladies too!” 

















































































































Cinderella 


Picture Ill 


A pedlar comes and cries: “I’ll sell a 
Doll, a dress, a pretty stone.” 

“I cannot buy,” says Cinderella, 

“I’m shut up in the house alone.” 
“I’ll free you, lady,” says the pedlar, 
“I like you for your pretty nose, 

I’m not known to be a meddler. 

But you’re pretty as a rose!” 










































































































































































































Cinderella 


Picture IV 


“Come and ride behind my donkey, 
You shall wear my nicest shawl! 
I’ve no livery or flunkey. 

But I’ll take you to the ball! 

Come with me, my pretty maiden, 
Lady of the tiny feet, 

You shall go with jewels laden, 
Riding on my wagon-seat.” 




































































































































































































Cinderella 


Picture V 


The music’s playing. They are dancing, 
Each on five enormous toes. 

All about the ballroom prancing, 

Each admires the other’s nose. 

But Cinderella’s sore affrighted, 

She’s a bad attack of blues, 

Fearing lest the ball be blighted 
By her tiny dancing shoes. 
















Cinderella 


Picture VI 


Caught! The sisters have been spying. 
See! They’re chasing her away. 

Home goes Cinderella flying, 

Not for her the ballroom gay! 

No, the maid must go and languish, 
Through no fault of hers at all, 

She must suffer all this anguish 
’Cause her nose and feet are small. 



























































































































Cinderella 


Picture VII 


He s a Prince, this youth so chipper, 
Looking like a millionaire, 

Saying, “She who dropped this slipper 
Surely is a maiden fair. 

Come,” says he, “I must not linger! 
By my princely honour true, 

I’ve a ring to fit the finger 
Of the maid who fits this shoe!” 











































































































































































Cinderella 


Picture VIII 


See—they’ve made a proclamation. 
Alert, the messengers await 
To bear the news to all the nation 
Of the Prince’s love-lorn state. 
Messengers are called in batches, 
Carrying the weighty news, 

Tons and tons of State despatches 
Concerning Cinderella’s shoes! 









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Cinderella 


Picture IX 


“Noble Princeling, I can tell you 
Who she is, the maiden fair,” 

Cries the pedlar (“and I’ll sell you 
Ribbons for her lovely hair). 

These are her sisters,” he announces, 
“Ugly though they are—and cruel, 
Punish them (and buy my flounces 
And my laces by the spool).” 

















































Cinderella 


Picture X 


By the messenger she s captured, 
In the Prince’s car she’s brought, 
Cinderella, all enraptured, 

By a princely suitor sought. 

The tiny shoe is in the palace, 

It will fit her like a glove; 

She who was pursued with malice, 
Soon will be pursued with love! 





























Cinderella 


Picture XI 


“Maid of pretty airs and graces, 
Whom your sisters used to mock, 

I have bought you rings and laces, 
All the friendly pedlar’s stock. 
Come, your pretty foot uncover!” 
Cries the Prince, upon his knees, 
“Cinderella, I’m your lover, 

Marry me, sweet maiden—please!” 









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Cinderella 


Picture XII 


Wedding bells are wildly pealing, 
Through the whole rejoicing land, 
See the loving couple stealing 
To a far, far-distant strand. 

And they say the Prince’s passion 
For our Cinderella sweet 
Set a new, unheard-of fashion— 
Noses straight, and tiny feet! 



























































THE STORY-TELLER SAYS 
GOOD-BYE 


The show is over. The story’s told. 
Perhaps I will tell you, before I’m dead, 

A tale of the days when knights were bold. 
But the night is dark, and I’m going to bed. 

I have taken my pay in fairy gold, 

I’m a friend of the fairies, as I have said. 


But, reader, a word before I go 
(I’m going soon, and my feet are spry). 
You have heard my tale, and you’ve seen 
my show, 

And you know that the fairies never die. 

(I have packed my bundle—I shan’t be slow, 
I’m going now, for I’ve said good-bye.) 













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